


Never Let Her Go

by CuriousBones



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluffy, My first fic, Sweet Ending, Teenage Dean Winchester, Teenage Sam Winchester, so please be kind, teenage reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7297279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousBones/pseuds/CuriousBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and your father hunt with John and the boys, have been for years; you practically grew up together. You meet a guy at yours and the brothers' new school, but won't let him get close to you since you know you'll just be leaving him behind in a few weeks once your hunt is done. You also have feelings for Dean, which adds to the complication, as you believe he doesn't feel the same, and you know you should just start dating other people to forget about him. </p><p>This is my first fic posted on AO3 so please be kind. Constructive criticism is always welcomed, however. I tried my best to find as many typos as possible, but if you find any, please feel free to let me know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Bye, dad. Bye, John." You waved goodbye as the black '67 Impala drove away from the front of the high school, leaving you, Sam and Dean standing there. All three of you turned to face the school. Kids were pouring in and out like ants on an anthill. You sighed. "Here we go again. I hate school."

"Me too, Y/N," Dean said. Sam turned to the both of you.

"I just hope I don't get picked on as much as the last school. That sucked." Dean playfully punched his little brother's arm.

"Oh, come on, Sammy. I know you can take any one of the kids here. Show 'em not to mess with you." Sam dodged his brother's next swing and started walking backwards. You and Dean followed.

"Yeah, but whenever I fight back, people think I'm even more of a freak than I already am."

"Sam, we're all freaks. Everyone at every school we've been to has known each other all through school. We're just the new kids who bounce from town to town. We'll always be freaks."

"But I don't want to be a freak anymore! I want to be normal." He sighed and turned around so he was walking forward now. "Whatever. I'll meet you guys at lunch." He stalked off into the school, disappearing among the sea of kids.

You and Dean looked at each other. You checked in your inside jacket pocket to see if your pocketknife was still there. You felt a cold, metal lump in the pocket. Yup, it's still there. You hated new schools. Thank god it was your last year in this hellhole that America called an 'education system'. The kids were rowdy and ruthless. They picked at new kids like buzzards at animal carcasses in the wild. Sure, you could handle yourself, but that didn't mean you enjoyed being the new kid all the time. And you knew Dean felt exactly the same way. Although, he only liked one thing about it. Girls. He could date a new girl every day of the week and leave before the exes could get at him. You acted cool about it, but it always kind of hurt.

You'd liked Dean since you were 11, but it had started to grow into something more. You started to think you even loved him. You'd known each other since you were little. You knew Dean would never feel the same way, so you tried to hide your feelings by helping Dean pick up girls, even though he didn't really need it.

Before the two of you got in the school, you compared schedules to see which classes you had together. You had English, Biology, Math and History together. At least that was more than half. Your first class was Math, so you pulled out the map you had made the night before showing where to go to get from one class to the other. You and Dean followed it to your English class as the first bell rang.

When you got to your class, you walked to the teacher at her desk and handed her your transfer paper. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. I just transferred here from Illinois." The teacher took your paper.

"I'm Mrs. Clearwater. Welcome to Wichita, Kansas, Y/N." She said with a kind smile. You smiled back quickly. Dean walked up behind you and handed her his transfer paper.

"Dean Winchester. From Illinois."

"Oh, did you two move here together?" The teacher asked.

"Uh yeah, I guess. Our dads are good friends and work together. They both move a lot for work, and we go with them. We grew up with each other." You quickly explained.

"Hmm. I've never heard of a situation like that before. Well, best of luck to your families. Now, let's introduce you to the rest of the class, shall we?" The bell rang, and the class settled. Mrs. Clearwater stood up from her desk and walked beside Dean and you. "Class, this is Y/N L/N and Dean Winchester. They will be staying here with us for a few weeks." Dead silence rang through the class. Typical twelfth graders. Mrs. Clearwater turned to Dean and you. "Would you like to say anything to the class?"

You and Dean shook your heads. "No, not really."

"Not a thing, sugar." You elbowed Dean at his comment and the class snickered. Mrs. Clearwater cleared her throat.

"Well, then. You may find an open seat, if you please."

You turned to Dean and mouthed 'sugar'?

Dean shrugged and you started walking down the aisle, spotting an open seat at the back of the class. Dean sat down in an empty seat beside you.

The math class was easy, although, math always had come easily to you. It was Dean who was struggling with the concept being taught, even though Mrs. Clearwater explained it thoroughly throughout the class. When the bell rang, Dean was the first one out the door. Your next class was History. Dean was waiting for you by the door, because, frankly, you were the only one of the two who knew where the classroom was. History was the same thing. The teacher introduced you to the class, and you took a seat in the back. It was always the same.

At lunch time, you walked with Dean to the cafeteria, and saw Sam standing by the trash can, a disappointed look on his face. You walked up to him. "Hey, Sammy, how's your first day been so far?"

"Terrible. I got picked up by the school bully in my first class."

"What's his name?" You and Dean said simultaneously.

"Dirk MacGregor."

"What happened?"

"He always picks on this kid, Barry Cook, in class, and I told him to stop. He asked me if I wanted to take his place, and I said yeah. He's gonna start picking on me now, like all the other schools."

"You can take him, Sam."

"How do you know? You've never seen him! He's such a jerk." Sam crossed his arms.

"'Cause I believe in you, Sammy!" You ruffled his hair. Sam's hands immediately reached up to fix it.

"Don't touch my hair."

You laughed. "Whatever. This Dirk kid is a jerk, you said it. But you can take him. I mean, for God's sake, Sam! We hunted werewolves this summer! If you can take a werewolf, you can take a 9th grade bully."

"Whatever."

"Well, I'd rather actually eat for lunch than stand around by a garbage can." You started walking to the food counter and picked up a tray. You were served your food, and spotted a table at the back of the cafeteria. You walked over and got a good look at your food. Meatloaf. At least, that's what you thought it was. Sam and Dean sat down beside you, and you started picking at your food.

A few minutes later, a group of jocks walked up to you. A tall, blond, well-built and rather attractive boy cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me, but on behalf of our football team, we'd like to welcome you guys to our school." The other boys behind him snickered. "We'd like to feature you guys in our paper, if you don't mind, and the news team asked us to ask you some questions."

"Uh, sure, why not?" You set down your fork.

"Okay, the first question," the boy started. The boys snickered some more. "Do you like your muffins buttered?" You raised your eyebrows as the boys nearly lost it. Dean started to get up, a murderous look on his face, but you stopped him, grabbing his shoulder and tugging him back down, bot even breaking eye contact with the tall blond boy.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you like your muffins buttered?"

You scoffed. "What the hell kind of a question is that? Do you ask all the students at this school questions like that, or just the out-of-towners you think will fall for your dumbass jokes?" You raised one eyebrow, and if looks could kill, they'd be dead on the floor. "No, go to someone else and do your stupid jokes on them. I've been jumping from town to town my whole life, and the last thing I need is to have the moronic jocks at my new school greet me by asking me a perverted question just to get me to sound stupid. Get out of here." The boys' smiles fell and walked away, muttering apologies under their breaths. You scoffed and turned back to your sad excuse for meatloaf. You looked at Dean, and noticed him staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just, you really put them in their place." He smiled at you.

"Well, they can't just go and ask questions like that to people. That is absolutely not the way I want to be greeted. It's moronic and rude, and honestly, I won't have any of it."

Dean held up his hands. "Okay."

You really hated new schools.

***

The rest of the day passed slowly, and when the last bell rang, you silently thanked it in your mind.

You opened your locker to put your books away, and when you closed it, the jock who had asked you the perverted question at lunch was standing beside you. "Hey, here to give me another 'greeting'?" You asked sarcastically. He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, about that, I'm really sorry I asked you that. It was completely immature, and you do not deserve to be greeted that way. I'm sorry."

"Look, it's fine. It's just, I'm always moving, so I never stay at the same school for more than a month. I hate new schools, so I'm always on edge on the first day, because, you know, new school, new kids. It just sucks, is all."

"Yeah, what I did was a really dick move, and your reaction really set me straight." He smiled at you. "I'm Christopher. But you can call me Chris."

"I'm Y/N. You can call me that. Y/N. I don't really have a nickname." You laughed and Chris smiled.

"Hey, to make it up to you, could I maybe buy you a Coke or something at the diner?"

You sighed. "Look, Chris, you seem nice. You proved that when you came and apologized. But, I'm gonna be here 3 weeks, tops. I'd really like to just focus on my schoolwork."

He nodded. "Oh, yeah, totally. And you're probably really stressed from the move and stuff. Yeah, I get it. It's okay."

"Yeah, and besides, even if I was open to dating now, my dad's picking me up right away, anyway." He nodded.

"Yeah, that's fine. I get it. It's okay. Just pretend I never said anything." You nodded. "So, I'll, uh, see you around, just-Y/N." He smiled and lifted up a hand as if to say goodbye, before turning around and walking away awkwardly. You chuckled. Dean and Sam walked up to you then.

"What was the jock doing here?" Dean asked you stiffly. He was still probably upset about the joke they had asked you.

"He just wanted to apologize about the joke. It's okay." You shrugged.

Sam nudged you. "Hey, so are we going?"

"Yeah, let's go." The three of you walked out of the school as John's black Impala pulled into the front of the school.

Your dad poked his head out of the window. "Hey, Y/N, how was school?"

"Fine," you said as you opened the door and climbed inside. Sam and Dean followed, and John pulled away from the sidewalk.

"So, we're getting kinda hungry. What do you guys say about stopping at that 24-hour diner we saw coming into town for a slice of pie?" Your dad asked.

"Yeah, I'm up for pie." You answered, smiling. Sam and Dean nodded their heads excitedly.

"Great," John said, and drove in the direction of the diner.

***

"Hi, I'm Lindsay, can I get you guys anything?" The waitress had short, blond hair cut into a bob, with cherry red lipstick to match her apron.

"Uh, yeah, we'll have five slices of your finest pie," your dad answered. The waitress nodded curtly, and smiled at Dean before walking behind the counter. You looked down at your Coke, thinking about how Chris had asked if he could buy you one as an apology for the joke. You felt bad about turning him down, but you really couldn't handle dating someone from your new school right now. Well, you couldn't handle leaving behind another person. You couldn't handle it, even if it was just a Coke.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Dean looked at you, concern lacing his eyes. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at him.

"Oh, yeah, just thinking about today." Dean sat up straight, a protective look on his face.

"Did that jackass's joke at lunch bother you more than you let on?" Your dad looked at you, the same look on Dean's face reflected on his.

"What joke?" Your dad's eyes were practically flaming with anger. You sighed.

"It's just some idiot at school. At lunch he and his jock friends came up to me and asked me some stupid question. But I gave him a piece of my mind, and at the end of the day he apologized. It's fine."

"No, it sure as hell is not fine. That kid needs to be taught a lesson. You don't make fun of my little girl and get away with it."

"No, dad, he didn't get away with it; I gave him a piece of my mind. I yelled at him after, and he apologized. I already told you. He isn't gonna be bothering me anytime soon. Just let it go."

"Alright, fine. But that kid's on thin ice." Almost as if it was timed, a group of jocks from your school's football team walked into the diner, and among them, was Chris. You looked away and turned to Dean.

"So, what did you think of the classes?" You asked him. He looked at you strangely.

"Well, you know I hate school anyway, so the classes are never any different… the math was really confusing, though."

"Really? I thought Mrs. Clearwater did a really good and thorough job explaining the concepts."

"Yeah, well, she explained it thoroughly, but she used confusing words, so it didn't do anything for me."

"What about gym? I'm sure you at least enjoy gym."

"Yeah, well, the coach's a dick."

"Well, all gym coaches are dicks."

"I don't know. We were doing wrestling, and that was okay. At least I beat Chris's ass."

Your dad and John sat up straighter. "Who's Chris? Dean, did you get in another fight?" John asked.

"No, Chris is the asshole who asked that perverted question to Y/N."

"Well, at least he got what was coming." Your dad took a swig of his drink. "Hey, Dean, you ever thought about joining the wrestling team? You're pretty good, from what I hear." Dean looked down shyly.

"Nah, I'm not really one for joining school teams."

You looked up, and noticed Chris was looking at you. When he saw you looking his way, he looked away.

The waitress came back with five plates of pie. She handed them to you, Dean, your dad, John and Sam.

Your dad turned to Sam. "So, Sammy, how was your day?" Sam sighed.

"It was okay."

"What happened? Are you being picked on again?"

"Yeah. It's this bully, Dirk. He was picking on a kid named Barry Cook, and I said I would take Barry's place if he left him alone."

John raised his eyebrows. "Well, you can't be worried about this kid, Sam. He's a punk, and you can take him."

"How do you know?"

"I just do, Sam."

You got up, and everyone turned to you, your dad's and Dean's eyebrows raised. "Bathroom," you muttered, and headed around the counter to the bathroom on the other side of the diner. You didn't notice Dean's eyes following you, or your dad reaching across the table and slapping him upside the head. On the way, you passed the group of jocks, and Chris noticed you. He pushed his way through the boys, and caught your arm before you opened the girls' bathroom door. You were glad the group of boys at the counter blocked your table's view of the bathroom doors, because if Dean saw you talking to Chris, he'd kick his ass right then and there.

"Hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

"Fine. If you'll excuse me, I kinda was going somewhere." You gestured to the door.

"Yeah, right, sure, but I just wanted to tell you something before."

"Alright, what? I already told you, about the joke, we're good. It's fine."

"Yeah, I know, but it's just, I still really feel bad, and I do wanna make it up to you. Please, just let me buy you a slice of pie tomorrow. I noticed how your eyes kinda lit up when the waitress came with your pie."

"Wow, that didn't sound like I'm some sad girl who eats her feelings." You said sarcastically.

"No, I didn't mean that, I just meant, you seem like you enjoy pie, so I thought you might let me buy you a slice tomorrow. Look-" he stopped you as you opened your mouth. "- I know you said you weren't looking to date anyone right now. But, it won't be a date. It will just be a guy apologizing to a girl for making a dick move. It won't be a date. Just two friends- are we friends?- going for a snack after school. Please?" You sighed.

"I guess so. But you are honestly not in my dad's good books right now. Even if you apologized, he can hold a grudge to his grave. And it can go even longer for guys who mess with his daughter. But he's the least of your worries. Based on my answer to your question at lunch, I'm sure you can assume what I'm physically capable of. So don't try anything, or I'll kick your ass, all right? And Dean will wait his turn in line, too. I'm assuming you remember your gym class today?"

"How did you know-"

"Dean told me. He's really cocky, and he likes to brag. I'm just preparing you for if you try anything, alright?"

"Yeah, I promise, it's just a snack between friends. Or, well, are we friends?"

"I guess. Friends, acquaintances."

"Okay, great. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Later."

"Right, er, bye."

You turned around and entered the bathroom, blushing slightly.

***

On the drive back to the motel, none of you really talked. You just looked out the window.

When you got out, you, Dean and Sam walked into your motel room, and your dad and John entered Sam and Dean's room to research for the hunt.

You sat at the table and pulled out your books. You started with math, because that would take the least amount of time. You were done within 30 minutes. It would have normally taken less time for you if you didn't have to do so many calculations for one question and show your work.

Next, you started your English homework. When you were finished with that, Dean was still on his math. You finished the rest of your homework, and Dean was only on the fourth question out of 16. You looked at the clock. It was 8:30, and you had started at 6:00. Not bad, for someone who had written half an essay when only the plan was due tomorrow, if you said so yourself. You looked back at Dean. His brow was furrowed, and he was scratching the side of his head with the end if his pencil, something he always did when he was stumped on homework or research. "Dean," you said, and he looked up at you. "Do you need any help?"

"Yes, I have no idea what I'm doing." Dean said, relieved that you were offering help. Dean wasn't much for asking for help.

You laughed. "Okay, let's see here..."

***

"And then you divide the difference by the original, and you get...?" Dean typed in the numbers you pointed at with your pencil into the calculator. Dean looked back up to you after a moment.

"0.44?" Right.

"Good, and now?"

"You multiply that by 100 to get the percentage?"

"Great. You're really catching on, Dean." He smiled proudly, and wrote down the equation. "Okay, so now, I want you to take notes of all I've just taught you, so if you ever get lost in class, you can look at them, and they'll help you, okay? I also want you to do a few extra questions for some examples so you can see how the work is done."

"Why do I have to do so much?"

"Just do it, okay? I do, and it helps a lot, especially when I'm studying."

"Fine. How many questions?"

"Just the example questions at the beginning of the lesson. They'll help, trust me. And if you forget what do do for the examples, look at the paper I wrote on."

"Okay."

You smiled and stood up from your chair. It was 9:15. You stretched and yawned, heading to your bag at the end of your motel bed. You rifled through it, and pulled out your Batman pj pants and pj shirt. The pants were long and black, with dozens of the Batman sign all over them. The shirt was just a simple black V-neck tee. You headed to the bathroom to shower and change.

When you got out, Dean had opened his English textbook, so you assumed he was done with the questions. You ruffled your hair with your towel, drying off the dripping ends. "Dean, did you finish the questions and do the notes?"

"Yeah, I jotted down the important stuff and finished the questions. Thanks a lot, Y/N this really helped."

"No problem, Dean-o." You smiled, tossing the towel onto your bed and you put your books in your backpack again. Sam was asleep on one of the beds. "Are you almost done your essay plan?" You asked, looking over Dean's shoulder.

"Yeah, just a few more minutes."

Your dad and John walked into the motel room. "Okay, Dean, help bring Sam back to our motel room and get out of Y/N and Joe's hair."

"Yes, sir." Dean put down his pencil and put his books in his backpack. "See you tomorrow, Y/N." He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and picked up Sam, carrying him in a cradling position, careful not to wake him. He and John left the room.

You sat down at the table, and your dad sat across from you. "So, Y/N, I've been meaning to talk to you," he started. "I know that moving from school to school is tough on you, and I totally get that, but please, don't keep it all bottled up. I don't want you to feel like just because your mother died, you can't talk to me. I know how you are, you bottle up your feelings and don't let them out until you can't hold them in any longer. So if you're ever having trouble with any kids, let me know, and I'll handle it. I don't want you getting in another fight because you refuse to talk to me. So, it's good you told me about that kid today. I want to know what's going on at school, okay?"

"Yeah, dad, about that," you chuckled nervously. "Um, he actually asked if he could buy me a slice of pie or something tomorrow as a proper apology, and I kind of said yes, is that okay?" Your father looked at you with that look that all dads get when their daughter mentions a guy.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. He was really sorry about it, so I figured, ehh, why not. It wouldn't be like a date or anything. Just a guy getting a girl some pie as an apology for being a dick. His words."

"I guess so, but only because I know that if he tries anything, you'll kick his ass. Then Dean will, then John will, then Sam will, then I will, for the grand finale. He won't be able to sit for a month. We've got your back."

"Thanks for understanding, dad." You stood up and hugged him. "Um, could you not tell Dean I'm going with Chris tomorrow? I think he's still mad."

"What should I tell him instead if he asks?"

"Cindy Wellerton asked me if I wanted to study for a Chemistry quiz at her house tomorrow. I'll go after, but I'll tell Dean I'm going right after school."

"Alright, Y/N. But I don't like lying to those boys."

"I know, I'll make it up to you. I'll help you with the hunt this weekend instead of studying."

"No, school comes before hunting."

"I'll study this week, then, so I don't have to on the weekend. And instead of doing something on my free time this weekend, I help you on the hunt."

"Fine, I guess so."

"Thanks, dad. I'm gonna go get some sleep. Goodnight." You kissed his cheek and got into your bed.

"Goodnight, sweetheart. See you in the morning."

***

Ring! You thanked, well, whoever was running Heaven at the moment , as the bell rang, signifying the end of the day. You closed your locker, and saw Dean walking towards you.

"Hey, Y/N, you ready to go?"

"Um, actually, I got plans with someone right now."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Oh really, who?"

"Um, Cindy Wellerton. We're going to her house to study for a quiz in Chemistry. We're just gonna walk."

"Oh. Does your dad know?"

"I texted him. I'll be back by like, 7:00. Okay?"

"How do you plan on getting back?"

"Cindy asked her dad if he could drop me off. If he can't, then I texted dad the address at lunch. Now, stop nosing around in my business."

"What if he's the monster we're hunting?"

"Do you really think I would ever go anywhere without being prepared? Really, Dean, get your head out of your ass."

"Alright," Dean put up his hands in surrender. "See you later."

"See you."

Dean walked away, and not thirty seconds after he left, Chris showed up. "Hey, ready to go? Why was he talking to you?"

"Just wondering where I was going. We're kind of pre cautious. And, he doesn't know I'm going with you. He thinks I'm studying with Cindy."

"Why didn't you tell him the truth?"

"Well, he's still kind of mad at you. And anyway, I didn't completely lie to him, I mean, I'm going to Cindy's after, right?"

"Right. I'll drop you off I guess. Well, are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Cindy walked up to you. "Hey, Y/N, see you at 4:30. And, my dad said he could drop you off at home after."

"Thanks, Cindy. See you at 4:30." You continued walking with Chris to the parking lot. "So, what car do you drive?" You asked him, already comparing it to the Impala in your mind.

"Oh, it's a real nice car. She's my pride and joy. There she is-" he stopped in front of a silver Toyota Camry. You almost burst out laughing. This car was nothing to the Impala.

"It's a great car." You forced out. Chris walked to the passenger side and opened the door.

"After you." You smiled at him and stepped inside. The cushions were soft and almost fuzzy to the touch. It wasn't leather, like the Impala. You remembered when you had told Dean how beautiful his dad's car was when you were 15.

*FLASHBACK*

"Oh, I know right?" He had said. "Apparently, he was gonna get a minivan for my mom and him, but some guy convinced him to take this baby instead. Whoever it was, I just wanna jump back in time and hug him. Could you believe if he had gotten the minivan?" You had chuckled.

"He made a good choice. Does he ever let you drive it?"

"No, he said that a learner's license wasn't enough to drive Baby, - that's the name I call her - he said I needed to pass my driver's license with flying colours before I could drive it. But if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna drive that car. Could you imagine if I drove this car?"

"You'd probably get even more girls than you do now." You said, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean blushed slightly as well then, and had mumbled something too quietly for you to hear.

"Sorry, what was that?" You'd asked.

"Uh, nothing." Dean got redder.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

Two years later, you still wondered what he'd said then. Only now had you realized Chris had gotten into the car and started pulling out of the parking lot. "So, there's this great bakery about two blocks away. You wanna check out their pies?"

"Yeah, sure." Pie. Pie was such a big area when it came to Dean. You had so many fond memories of Dean with pie. One especially vivid memory popped into your head when Chris mentioned the bakery.

*(ANOTHER) FLASHBACK*

"Guys, I saw this bakery on the way into town, can we check it out?" Dean asked eagerly when you asked the brothers what they wanted to do. You and Sam looked at each other and you shrugged.

"Might as well, I wanna see if they have cinnamon apple." You said as you walked out of the motel room.

The bakery was small and quaint, and reminded you of something out of a storybook. It had a small wooden sign dangling over the door. It had the name if the bakery carved into it in curvy letters. The curvy letters spelled out, 'The Rolling Scones'. When you entered, The Rolling Stones played in the background. You snorted and leaned toward Dean. "This is not the kind of music I thought a quaint place like this would have." Dean smiled. The smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the air, and you breathed it in. You walked up to the counter and looked at the pies they served. They didn't serve cinnamon apple, but apple was fine.

A kind-faced woman came up to you from behind the counter. "Can I get you anything, sugar?" The woman asked. She was old, maybe in her seventies, with crinkles by her eyes and by her mouth; the kind of marks left by a lifetime of smiling.

"Um, could I please have a slice of your apple pie?" You asked.

"You sure can. Anything for you boys?" The woman asked Sam and Dean.

"Um, I'll have the same thing." Dean said. The woman nodded, smiling warmly. She then looked at Sam.

"Uh, me too. Thanks."

The woman nodded, then turned to you again. "I must say, you two make the most adorable couple." She said, gesturing to you and Dean. You and Dean looked at each other, stuttering.

"Oh, uh, n-no we're, we're not-not a couple, no, we're just friends." Dean tripped over his words, and you both blushed furiously.

"Okay, then." The woman then gestured Dean to come closer, and she whispered something in his ear. When he pulled back, he was an even darker shade than before. "You understand?" The woman asked.

Dean nodded quickly. "Y-yes ma'am."

"Good. Your pie will be right out." With that, the woman turned away, walking to the baker.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

You snapped back to reality as the flashback ended, and Chris pulled into the parking lot of a quaint bakery, much like the one you'd visited that fateful day two years ago. You got out of the car and walked with Chris into the bakery. The sign over the door read, 'Sweetie Pie'. You snorted. "Real original name they've got there."

"Yeah, I wonder how long it took for them to think of that one."

"You know, I actually visited a bakery a couple years ago called The Rolling Scones, and all they'd ever played were The Rolling Stones." You said, reminiscing your recent flashback.

"Huh, now that's original."

"Yeah, they had really good apple pie."

You entered the bakery, and the smell of cinnamon overwhelmed you. You were overtaken with nostalgia for a moment, then recovered and continued walking. You walked to the counter, and a man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties walked up to you. "Can I get you anything?" He asked with a thick Italian accent.

"Um, could I get a slice of your apple pie?" You asked him.

"I'll have a slice of cherry pie." Chris ordered. The man nodded and charged the price of the pies. You took out your wallet, but Chris put it down. "No way, this is my treat. I'm supposed to be apologizing." You sighed and he took out a 20$ bill, handing it to the man.

The man yelled something in Italian to someone in the back, you couldn't see who, then turned back to you. "It will just be a moment," he said. You smiled at him.

"Thank you."

The man nodded and walked down the counter to another customer who had walked in. "Their pies are the best ones in town," Chris said.

"Sounds good."

An attractive young man, about your and Chris's age, with curly black hair set two plates of pie in front of you. "For you, my lady," he said in a lighter, but similar Italian accent to the one of the man who had taken your order. You assumed he was the man's son. He gracefully handed you your plate, winked at you, and smiled, showing a set of dazzling bright, straight teeth. "And you." He bitterly slid the other plate in the direction of Chris. Chris frowned, and narrowed his eyes at the boy. The boy glared back.

"Uh, thank you," you said nervously. The boy turned around and walked off, looking at you over his shoulder for a second. You walked with Chris to a table and sat down, taking a bite from your pie. "Wow, this is delicious!" You said.

"I told you," Chris smiled.

"So, what's with you and Stephano over there," you asked, smirking.

"He's just some guy," Chris said, digging into his pie.

"You seemed kind of tense with him." You observed, taking another bite.

"It's nothing, just a guy thing."

"Ah, okay," you raised an eyebrow, but set it down after a few seconds. So he was the competition.

"So where all have you been to?" Chris asked changing the subject.

"Well, all over, actually. Oregon, Montana, Texas, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, I was even in New York for a while."

"Oh, I've never even been out of Kansas. The farthest I've ever went was Lawrence, to visit family."

"Oh, I'm actually from Lawrence."

"No kidding, just about all of my dad's side of the family is from Lawrence."

"Oh? What's his name? My dad's family's from there, too."

"His name's Marcus Crenshaw."

"I don't recognize the name, sorry."

"Well, the odds were against us."

You laughed.

***

Chris dropped you off at Cindy's house. Before you got out, Chris touched your arm. "Hey, Y/N, I know you said you weren't gonna date, but would you maybe want to do this again? Make an exception?" His eyes were hopeful.

You sighed. You weren't expecting this. "Look, Chris, I said I wasn't dating. Usually, I don't have to stress that. Guys usually stay away from me."

"Why? You're amazing."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Please, Y/N-"

"No, Chris, I'm sorry. I'm just not someone that you should get attached to. I'll be gone in three weeks. I can't date anyone from my new schools."

"Then just as friends."

"No, not friends either."

"Why not?"

"Because friends don't just leave friends behind after three weeks, Chris. I'm better off not making friends, because the less people I associate with at these new schools, the less people I'm leaving behind when I go. I hate goodbyes, so I make sure there's no one to say goodbye to. Just leave it, okay?"

"Fine." He said bitterly. You got out and walked to Cindy's door. You heard Chris drive away, but you didn't look back. Cindy opened the door.

"Hey, Y/N. Ready to study?" You nodded, and walked into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

*** 

"Bye, Mr. Wellerton. Thanks for the ride." 

Cindy's father waved and called through the window. "Anything for one of Cindy's friends."

Friends. You hated that word when it came to kids at new schools. You weren't any one of their friends. Friends don't leave friends behind after three weeks. You walked into your motel room. 

Sam was sitting on the bed, reading his book, and Dean was at the table, hunched over his homework. He looked up as you slammed the door. "Hey, Y/N, how'd studying go?" He asked, concern lacing his voice. 

"Fine."

"Okay, well, could you help me with math again?" He pointed to his book. 

"I thought I had you make notes yesterday."

"Yeah, but you didn't teach me one of the methods in the book." He smiled innocently at you. You sighed, smiling slightly, and took your math text out of your backpack. 

***

You'd explained Dean the method he was having trouble wrapping his head around, then wrote out a page of equations to practice the method on. You'd written the answers on a page to check over when he finished an equation. He was halfway done, and was doing pretty well. After he got the hang of it, Dean was good. It was learning the method that he couldn't quite grasp. 

You looked at Sam, who was passed out on the bed. Again. You smiled, and turned back to the paper. 

"So, after this, what do you do?" You asked him, pointing at the number he'd written.

Dean furrowed his brows, concentrating on the question in front of him. "You… uh," Dean looked so cute when he was concentrating. He always furrowed his brows when concentrating, and he would get a crease right between his eyebrows. "You… multiply it by itself?"

"Good." Dean wrote the rest of the answer out and let you check it over. You looked over his work, comparing it to your work. "Right. Now write that in your notes for next time." You looked up, and noticed Dean was staring into your eyes, probably not even listening to a word you'd said. "Dean, did you hear what I just said?" He didn't answer, just kept staring. You sighed, and looked into his eyes. 

They were bright and wide. They had at least 4 different shades of green in them. If anyone asked you how to describe them, you'd say they were a 'forest of greens', or 'emeralds caged by long lashes'. They were beautiful. You loved them. 

"Dean, what are you looking at?" You asked. 

"Your eyes, are so amazing. They were the first thing I noticed when I first met you, you know." He said absentmindedly, almost dreamily. 

"Well, your eyes are amazing, too. They're like, emeralds, almost. There's like, four shades of green in them. They're so beautiful." You blushed, your thoughts coming out into words before you could stop them. 

Dean leaned closer, still looking into your eyes, then looking to your lips, and back. "Is it alright if I kiss you?"

You nodded hesitantly, and Dean leaned in, looking back to your lips until they connected with his. You both closed your eyes. Dean's lips were plump, and soft, and fit perfectly with yours. The kiss only lasted a moment, but it seemed like a lifetime. Dean pulled back, just far enough that when he spoke, his lips lightly brushed yours, his breath tickling them. "You have no idea how long I've waited to do that."

"Seriously? I'd never thought you'd liked me back." You said, smiling in disbelief. 

"What do you mean, 'liked you back'?" Dean asked. 

"Dean, I've had this crush on you since we were 11," you said. "I never thought you would ever like me like that."

"Are you crazy? I only ever dated girls who had something in common with you, haven't you noticed? I never thought you would like someone like me, so I tried to take my mind off it. It never worked. All the girls I ever ended up with were always like you in some way. All it did for me was make you think I was some womanizer." 

"Dean, you could have had anyone, and you wanted me? Why?" You asked, exasperated. 

"You're amazing, Y/N. Your eyes make me want to drown in them. Your smile makes me smile. You're so kind, and you stand up for what you believe in. I admire you so much, Y/N, and I really wonder how you hadn't realized how I feel about you by now."

You smiled, blushing slightly. 

He looked at you with such love in his eyes, that you wondered how you'd ever missed it all these years. Dean's eyes flicked to your lips. "Can I kiss you again?" He asked quietly. You nodded, smiling at how shy he was right now. His lips turned up at the corners a bit, and he pulled your lips to his again. You smiled against them sweetly. This kiss was longer, and more passionate. You kissed until you needed to pull away for air, and you smiled. Then, you frowned. 

"What is it?" Dean asked you. 

"It's just that, on the first day at school, at the end of the day, Chris came up to me, and apologized, and asked if he could take me on a date as an I'm Sorry I Was A Dick kind of thing. I told him no, that even if he hadn't been a dick, I didn't want to date anyone because I knew I would just be leaving in three weeks. When we went to the diner, and the group of jocks showed up, he was there, too. And when I went the bathroom, he asked me out again, but he said it wouldn't be a date, just as friends. I figured he wouldn't leave me alone until he proved he was sorry, so I said sure. Today, after school, I actually went with him, and he bought me a slice of pie as an apology, then he dropped me off at Cindy's house for studying. But, before I got out, he asked if I would just give him a chance. I said no, because even if it was just another date as friends, I'm leaving in three weeks, and the less people I make friends with, the less people I'm leaving behind. I told him I couldn't make friends at my new schools, because friends don't leave friends behind after three weeks. I'm just better off sticking with the people I'll be leaving with. Then, I won't have to cut any strings because of the friends I made or the relationships I had. Then I left, and he drove away. If he sees me with you, it will feel like I'm rubbing it in his face that I chose not to be with him, and it will feel like I lied to him about not dating. Even if he was a dick at the beginning, he's actually a nice guy, and I don't want to hurt him. That's why I didn't want to go out with him in the first place." You took a deep breath as you blurted out what you had been keeping from Dean. Dean looked at you with a sad look in his eyes. 

"Y/N, you don't have to keep yourself from making friends because you don't want to hurt them when you leave. I think Chris knew what he was getting into when he asked you out again. You don't have to isolate yourself because you don't want to grow attached to kids at these schools." He took your face in his hands, and made you look at him. "You can be friends with Chris, it sounds like he's a good guy. You just can't date him, because now, you're taken." He smiled and kissed you softly. You smiled at him. 

"Thank you," you whispered. 

It was silent for a while. A thought popped into your head, and you figured now that you were closer than ever, it was time to ask. 

"Dean, do you remember when we were talking about how you were gonna drive the Impala one day. It was two years ago, in Texas. You said, 'could you imagine if I drove this car?' And I said, 'you'd probably get more girls than you already do', and then you mumbled something I couldn't hear. What had you said?"

Dean smiled, reminiscing the moment you recounted. "I said, 'yeah, but none of them will be you.'" You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes again. 

"And do you remember when we went to that bakery two years ago in Missouri on my mom's birthday? That old woman whispered something in your ear after mistaking that we were a couple. What did she say then?"

Dean almost didn't miss a beat. "She said not to wait too long, because you wouldn't be around forever. She said she saw how I looked at you, and it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen, that look I gave you. I've thought about that every day for two years. Whenever I saw you, I'd think about how she said not to wait too long, or I'd miss my shot."

"Well, you waited a little longer than I'd hoped."

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"

You smiled, nodding, and kissed his lips gently. 

***

The next day at school, you walked up to Chris at his locker. His friends weren't there. Good. You looked to Dean, who had stayed back a few feet. He gave you a thumbs up. 

That morning, you had practiced what you'd say to Chris with Dean. 

You tapped Chris's shoulder, and he turned around. "Hey," he said a little bitterly. 

"Hey," you said back. "Look, Chris, about yesterday, I'm sorry I pushed you away. I've just always done that when it came to new kids. But, I've realized, that what you said was true. Making friends makes everything so much easier, and you're a really good friend to make me realize that. I've come to realize that, maybe it won't be easy to say goodbye when I leave, but it's going to be way better than not having anyone to say goodbye to at all. Then, I'll know that there's someone who knew I was there in the first place."

"So, you reconsidered going on an actual date with me?" Chris asked hopefully. You cringed. 

"Well, not really. We can definitely be friends, but, um-"

"Y/N's actually taken." Dean said, walking up to you and Chris. He put an arm around you, pulling you to his side. 

"Wait, you were dating Dean when I asked you out? Why didn't you just tell me?" Chris asked. 

"Actually, we got together last night. He's the one who convinced me to talk to you again today." You said. "I'm sorry, Chris, but I never actually considered going on a date with you in that way." 

"It's okay, Y/N, but can we be friends, at least?" Chris asked. 

"Yeah, definitely, but you need to remember that I'm leaving in two weeks. And I probably won't see you again."

"Yeah, I kept that in mind when I first asked you out." Chris said. 

"Yeah, well, as long as that's in mind, I could really use a new friend." You laughed. 

Chris laughed too. The bell rang, and Chris looked at you again. "You guys wanna go for lunch to the diner today?"

You looked at Dean. He nodded. "Yeah, sure. But I don't have my dad's car."

"I can drive. See you at lunch!" Chris called, already jogging to his class. 

You and Dean started walking to your class together. "So, what kind of car does Chris have?" Dean asked, and you knew he was already comparing it to the Impala. 

You laughed. "It's a Toyota Camry. It's got nothing on the Impala."

Dean exhaled a breath of relief. "Good, then I've got nothing to worry about. If I didn't have a nicer car, what else would I have to offer you?" He joked. You kissed him. 

"I can make you a whole list of things you have to offer." You said. "And at the top of the list is the Impala. That isn't going anywhere. No one's car can compare to the Impala." 

"God, I am so glad my girlfriend thinks that. You have no idea how many girls I've dated that couldn't care less about the Impala. The fact that the Impala is number one in your list, well, you're gonna be around for a long time." You kissed Dean again, and you entered your math class. 

Girlfriend. You liked the sound of that. 

***

"So, what kind of car does your dad drive?" Chris asked Dean as he popped a french fry into his mouth. 

You and Dean looked at each other. "A 1967 Chevrolet Impala," Dean said, smirking. Chris's mouth dropped open a little bit. 

"Shit, and I was proud of my car."

You burst out laughing. 

"Now I feel really stupid, talking about my car like she was the queen of cars in this town." Chris said. 

"I know, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud yesterday," you laughed. 

"I can see why you chose him," Chris said, smiling. "Dean, you hold on to that one."

"Oh, I'll never let her go," Dean said, looking into your eyes as he squeezed your hand. 

~ The End ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know if you liked it and if you'd like me to continue posting more of my works/
> 
> Always keep smiling, my lovelies :)
> 
> -CuriousBones

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm very proud of this piece and hope you enjoyed it. Like I said, constructive criticism is certainly welcomed; anything to help me make sure my writing is the best I can make it for you :) However, please if you are going to leave comments, I would appreciate it if you could keep them positive if they are not constructive. This should be a happy place for when people need a pick-me-up at the end of a rough day or when they just need a smile :)  
> Thank you again for reading, and let me know if you'd like more to come...  
> And remember,
> 
> Always keep smiling, my lovelies :)
> 
> -CuriousBones


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